


behind the curtain, in the pantomime

by amorremanet



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Acting, Coming Out, Episode: s04e04 The Voltron Show, Explaining Human Ideas of Gender & Sexuality to Aliens, Gay Disaster Shiro (Voltron), Gen, LGBTQ Themes, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, Sexuality, Shiro (Voltron)-centric, Slice of Life, Theatre, Zine: Prism - A Shiro Pride Zine, subtle alien translation error hijinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 00:54:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorremanet/pseuds/amorremanet
Summary: Voltron Show!rehearsals are stressful and difficult as a general rule, but Shiro does his best to maintain composure and stick it out. These shows are meant to help grow the Voltron Coalition, after all, which makes them more important than his discomfort over any misrepresentations of his personality, orders to stand there and look pretty because muscles speak louder than words, or Super-Tight ShirtsTM.Getting thrown at a female love-interest, though… That might be the one thing that Shirocan’tendure.“The issue isn’t that I’m kissing someone.” Shiro winces at his own voice—but there’s no sense in only digging his grave halfway. “It’s that I’m gay and you’re making me kiss a woman.”





	behind the curtain, in the pantomime

**Author's Note:**

> Written last year for, and originally published earlier this year in, **_[Prism](https://shiropridezine.tumblr.com/): [a Shiro Pride Zine](https://twitter.com/shiropridezine?lang=en)_**. Working on this project was an honor and a privilege, and I’m so glad to finally share the completed piece in public! ♡
> 
> ……I still don’t entirely know who I am, given that I wrote something more or less completely canon-compliant for the zine (minus any references to alien peoples and planets that I just made up because full-on canon ones didn’t necessarily work). If not for the fact that my original fic idea was significantly angstier (but also too close to shippy for a gen zine, since it would’ve dealt with the aftermath of Adam and Shiro’s breakup), I’d wonder if I’d gotten replaced by a clone, assimilated into a hive-mind like Unity off _Rick and Morty_, or similar.
> 
> Either way, have some ridiculous, Shiro-focused Team Voltron gen, in which Coran and Allura are confused by human ideas about gender and sexuality, Shiro goes back and forth on whether or not he wants to have this conversation, and Lance……… sure does make Choices.
> 
> Title lovingly stolen from Queen’s **“[The Show Must Go On](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t99KH0TR-J4).”**

As Bii-Boh-Bi wheels a cloth-and-stuffing mannequin to center-stage, Shiro yearns to sigh. Suspended on a silver device like the wheeled IV stands in Earthling hospitals, the doll has flat, gleaming stones for eyes. Whoever painted the lopsided smile guaranteed that Shiro will have nightmares about this thing.

Worst of all, someone’s gussied the mannequin up into an appalling parody of human-adjacent femininity. An approximately lip-shaped smear of bubblegum pink sits where a mouth belongs. Coran’s “Allura” wig cascades down the doll’s shoulders, pinned to its head. As if there’s any doubt what’s going on, the mannequin wears a short, sparkly tunic with a plunging neckline.

Scuttling backstage, Bii-Boh-Bi winks and shoots finger-guns at Shiro. Although he keeps his face neutral for that much, Shiro can’t help but cringe when he glances down at the latest _Voltron Show! _script. On the mannequin’s chest, stretched-out designs of Lance’s face grin at him, splashed across a pair of blue balloons. 

“Oh wow,” Hunk deadpans, the roll of his eyes audible. “A special visit from a fancy lady? Here’s hoping...” He seethes. “Hope I don’t throw up on her. From nerves. And maybe from that flujo bean casserole. It tasted... funny.”

Right on cue, a fart sound-effect trumpets through the theater. Behind the director’s table, Coran claps like a seal and bays like a wolf. His riotous laughter makes Shiro wish he could disappear without endangering the entire universe.

Over the speakers, Bii-Boh-Bi chirps the next line, since they haven’t cast the Duchess of Grumnock yet and the mannequin can’t talk. According to the script, the Duchess is coquettishly thanking Shiro for his role in her people’s liberation, and fighting how much she wants to swoon against The Hero’s chest.

With a manic grin, Coran jabs a finger toward Lance. Rather than springing into action, Lance sludges into position between Shiro and the mannequin. He doesn’t playfully jostle Shiro, but gives a pat like offering condolences at a funeral. His thin, straining smile threatens to snap at any moment. Leaving his hand on Shiro’s shoulder, Lance heaves a deep sigh.

“Don’t let us _stop_ you, _man_,” he pouts, blue eyes glimmering like he has a bad idea. “Maybe I’m the Loverboy—am I right, ladies and _gentle-aliens_—but _you’re _the reason we won here today.”

Lance gives Shiro a hopeful grin like these random inflections mean something. But there’s no time for games or deciphering anything.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Shiro soldiers on, reading off his bracer’s holo-projection, “You flatter me, Duchess, but I can’t do anything without my team.”

Another round of Bii-Boh-Bi tweedling over the speakers. Then, Lance thumps Shiro’s bicep.

Both eyebrows pointedly arched, he insists, “_Don’t_ be modest, Shiro. Or _deny yourself_ anything. Kissing a fine lady like the Duchess only happens—holy crow, can we have a hold?” Shoving downstage, Lance sends the mannequin clattering into the wall. Before Shiro can enjoy that, Lance grouses, “All due respect, Coran, but what the unbelievable, double-cheesing quiznak?”

Shiro cringes, burying his face in his right palm. “Let’s finish the scene—”

“No, Shiro! We can’t finish anything. Not until this garbage script gets some _serious_ rewrites.”

“Patience, okay?” Lazily twirling his mustache, Coran shrugs. His molasses-slow drawl has gotten increasingly familiar in the past few weeks, but hearing it still turns Shiro’s stomach. “Loverboy Lance will get his turn. When we get to Praxal V, you’re gonna be _drowning_ in grateful alien beauties—_and!_” he waggles his eyebrows, “one of them’s a Countess...”

“Whoa, really?”

“I was gonna _wait_ to tell you, but—”

“But nothing!” Lance huffs like he wants everyone to know he means business. “Don’t you think there’s anything wrong here? Like, y’know, making Shiro kiss a girl?”

Shiro switches to his organic hand. He needs to pinch the bridge of his nose without breaking it. “Lance, please. Your heart’s in the right place—I know you want to help—but I don’t need you to fight this battle for me, okay?”

“Why’s anybody need a _battle_? Why can’t we do the scene—”

“Because the script is absolutely—”

“Lance, buddy?” Hunk raises his hand. “Maybe drop it? I don’t think Shiro’s—”

Groaning, Lance stomps on the stage. “Come on, I stand by saying that these shows need more explosions, but we all know how much I’ve been loving this. Isn’t me being upset a giant, yalmor-licking clue that something’s very deeply wrong about Coran making Shiro kiss a _girl_?”

“But he’s the _hero_. That’s his role.” Propping himself up on his elbows, Coran flicks his hand like he’s swatting flies. “Don’t you Earthlings know how stories like this go? You save the day, and the hero kisses lovelies like the Duchess, who all want to shower him in gratitude—”

“The issue isn’t that I’m kissing someone.” Shiro winces at his own voice—but there’s no sense in only digging his grave halfway. “It’s that I’m gay and you’re making me kiss a woman.”

Lance flings his arms open in an obvious _“come at me” _gesture. “Seriously! Why else would I point out the Duchess’s gender?”

Tilting his head, Coran makes a throaty sound like, _“I don’t know.”_

Unfortunately, this confusion seems genuine, not some side-effect of show business. When Shiro turns to Allura, her face has gone similarly blank. She’s shifted into hugging herself, and her eyes drift toward Pidge. Shrugging and saying nothing, Pidge leans around Allura to trade puzzled expressions with Hunk, as if they can’t fathom where Allura and Coran got lost. Then, all three of them peer at Shiro as if being the Black Paladin means he has all the answers.

Holding a deep breath, Shiro digs his robotic fingertips into his temple. “I think we’re having some basic confusion about terms.”

“Yes, I believe so,” Allura pipes up. “If you’re feeling happy, then why do you have a problem with kissing the Duchess?”

Hearing Lance inhale, Shiro holds up his flesh hand by way of saying, _“Don’t.”_

Not that he has any better ideas about how to proceed—but if they’re really doing this, then Shiro wants to speak his own piece.

“So, it’s a human thing—”

“Well, that’s _slightly_ inaccurate,” Pidge chimes in. “Yeah, it’s technically correct? But we can’t pretend that all humans agree about this understanding. Different Earthling cultures have different idea about gender and sexuality. Some people are recovering their cultural concepts after the damage done by centuries of colonialist and imperialist—”

Thankfully, she goes quiet when Shiro holds up his cybernetic hand. With five people ogling him—and Bii-Boh-Bi possibly watching backstage—Shiro grinds his teeth and silently prays that he won’t botch this. Lance forces himself to give Shiro a bright, wobbly grin, likely meant as a vote of confidence. To keep things fair, Shiro should give back as good as he’s getting.

As he tugs his organic fingers through his white forelock, Shiro sighs. “What’s going on is, like... I know we haven’t really discussed how things were on Altea? Or how they ever are on any of the planets that we visit—”

“Which is honestly a huge oversight. I mean, this is an important part of cultural exchange—”

“Yes, Pidge. Thank you. Duly noted.” He flashes her a small, apologetic smile, then crosses downstage where he won’t need to project as much. Taking a spot beside Lance, Shiro folds his arms over his chest and zeroes in on Coran. “Humans have different ways of understanding who we love. We’ve got different words for who we’re _attracted_ to, and how we experience that, and what kinds of meaning we attach to those feelings—”

“And one of those words is, ‘gay.’ It’s really important, and it means that Shiro isn’t—”

“_Lance_.”

Rolling his eyes, Lance mimes zipping his lips and holds up his hands in mock-surrender.

Swallowing thickly, Shiro nods by way of reminding himself that he can do this. “In the simplest terms? ‘Gay’ means that I’m only attracted to other men.”

“You mean, exclusively?” Allura needles. “Is that normal for humans? Alteans would never—”

“It’s _perfectly_ normal, Princess. Lots of humans are gay. And there’s _nothing wrong_ with—”

“I’m not asking you again, Lance.” Vaguely, Shiro attempts to plaster on a firm stares like he used to level at misbehaving Garrison cadets. Despite that effort, though, Shiro slouches and lets his expression fall however it likes.

Apparently, he’s miserable enough to make Lance go wide-eyed and dead quiet.

Over at the director’s table, Coran clears his throat. “Well, I still don’t see what’s worth rustling your jimbulbs about. The show is a _fantasy_, baby. Like I’ve said quaz-cenboollian times: it’s the _legend_ of Voltron, with the panache and pizzazz that we _deserve_.”

“If people didn’t take the _Voltron Show!_ at face value, this wouldn’t be an issue. Audiences _have_ walked away, thinking the show is real, though.”

Shiro must look pathetic, because Coran steeples his fingers without saying anything.

“Most humans assume that everyone wants partners of a different gender. So, we have to tell each other, ‘Actually, I don’t’ or, ‘I like members of my same gender, too.’” Shiro knots his fingers in his forelock. “I already did my time coming out back on Earth. I know you didn’t mean anything untoward by having Shiro the Hero get entangled with the Duchess of Grumnock, but...”

Shiro clutches his elbow. “Lance is right, Coran. I’m not okay with this part of the script.”

Given how everything’s gone recently, Shiro ducks his chin. He flinches, ready for another shoe to drop and for that shoe to be filled with flesh-eating alien insects.

Instead, Coran knocks on his table. “Why don’t we call it a night, team?”

* * *

When Shiro’s called in early, refusal isn’t an option—not with the Coalition’s future and universal freedom on the line. As soon as he’s backstage, Bii-Boh-Bi snatches his flesh hand. A whirl of excited chattering, he drags Shiro to where Coran waits, fiddling with his mustache.

“All right, I heard what you were saying yesterday, and I want you to know: I listened.” Keeping his free hand on his hip makes Coran seem broader. Or maybe that’s shapeshifting; Shiro can’t tell. “I considered everything—”

“It’s fine. I don’t like it, but?” Shaking his head, Shiro shrugs. “I’ll tough it out for the Coalition.”

“Who said you had to—”

“The Duchess’s subplot ties the show’s themes together. I can’t expect you to cut it.”

“Oh. Well, yes, true...” Coran narrows his eyes and purses his lips, then shakes himself back to leering. “But what if I had a _compromise_ in mind?”

Stepping aside, Coran reveals the cloth-and-stuffing mannequin. While the lipstick smear remains, there’s a new wig: short, floppy, and black. No balloons sit on the chest. Instead of a tunic, it wears a fancy, epauletted waistcoat and a pair of breeches.

With an oil spill grin, Coran pats the mannequin. “Allow me to present the _Duke_ of Grumnock. He’ll have the same story as the Duchess, but with a better scene-partner for _you_. We’re ready to put out the new casting call if you like the sound of this.”

Truth told, Shiro _doesn’t _like it. These shows strengthen the Coalition, but they’d probably be more effective if Shiro could make a speech about the importance of teamwork in dismantling Zarkon’s regime. Aside from that, he’d rather not kiss _anyone_ on-stage.

One look at Coran, though, and Shiro’s resolve crumbles. The bags under Coran’s bloodshot eyes scream how hard he’s worked on these performances—everything from writing the scripts to arranging the venues, to rewriting things for Shiro’s sake. Worse, he grins so hopefully that guilt kicks Shiro in the chest for even thinking of backing out.

Forcing his best smile, Shiro nods. “This is great, Coran. Thanks, I... really appreciate it.”

While Coran and Bii-Boh-Bi crow in delight, Shiro holds himself together. As they start sending out new casting calls and revised scripts, he skulks out to the alley behind the theater. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, he slumps against the wall and stares up at the violet clouds of planet Alythane. In a couple of weeks, he’ll have the faintly green skies of Praxal V above him instead.

“This can’t last forever,” Shiro murmurs because it’s what he needs to hear. “I’ll muddle through—and, hey. Maybe my scene partner will be cute.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Personal reactions/interpretations
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
>   * Comments made with the [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/post/170952243543/now-presenting-the-llf-comment-builder-beta).
> 
> The author reads and appreciates all comments, and gets back to all of them eventually, but may be slow to reply due to trying to rein in the ADHD/anxiety cocktail.
> 
> If, for any reason, you don’t want to receive a reply, just put, “whisper” near the start of your comment, and I’ll appreciate it without replying.
> 
> * * *
> 
> As ever, I’m also on Discord (**amorremanet#5500**), Twitter (**[amorremanet](https://twitter.com/amorremanet/)**), Tumblr (**[amorremanet](http://amorremanet.tumblr.com/)**, though not quite as often anymore), Pillowfort (**[amorremanet](https://www.pillowfort.io/amorremanet)**), and I’m pretty much always game to talk about gay shit and Shiro.


End file.
